Desert Bluffs
by YourRhineStoneEyes
Summary: The truth behind the reason Desert Bluffs exist and why Kevin is the way he is.


A/N: I am so sorry, but I'm working with the theory that follows the latest episode.

This was Hell or at least as close as a human could come to it without dying and honestly he wished he were dead anymore. Cecil stared down at the wrist watch he wore, the one Carlos had given to him years ago...Maybe months, time worked differently in this place. Some days it moved quickly and other days slowly. He used to keep track, but now he wasn't entirely sure even to what year this was. He felt empty, he felt like there wasn't much left to himself, and he could hardly remember when there was much. He looked around the studio; the walls were stained with blood, finger prints from where many interns had tried to escape this room, and even himself a few times back when all of this began. He used to fight them, he used to try to rebel against them, because he was terrified and he refused to accept these changes. Most of the interns at that time had been killed right before his eyes, examples were made of them. In this place people weren't seen as people, they were seen like some lowly animals.

He constantly replayed the day Strex Corp. took over Night Vale, the beginning of the end. He would replay it wondering if he could have done something, he could have escaped; a lot of people had run away and some even made it out alive. He should have taken Carlos and left, left while they still had the chance to leave. He hadn't known things would go like this or that they would go there so quickly. Disasters always had come and gone in Night Vale, but this was no longer Night Vale; no this was Desert Bluffs.

A place where the sun was constantly out, he didn't even remember what the darkness looked or felt like any longer. All grass had died, animals struggled to survive; the sickest part was that they were lucky if they died of heat stroke or starvation.

He looked around at the dead animal carcasses on the desk and the floor. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed. He rarely had time to himself anymore, he knew if their cameras or recording devices caught him crying that he would get into trouble again. He was always getting into trouble with the new management, with this demonic company that had taken away everything he had grown to know and care deeply about. He ran his index finger across the healing scars at the corners of his mouth, the ones that turned up at the ends; a permanent smile.

They told him he was too cynical, he rebelled too much, and his emotional state fluctuated too much for their comfort. They hated the way he would try to warn people to just run away, escape from this Hell while they still had the chance...They hated the way Carlos distracted him.

There were several days that could be counted as the worst day of his life, but it seemed like the worst was the day Strex told him he needed to terminate his relationship with Carlos or they would do it for him. He told them he couldn't, he only had one reason to even keep living and that was it. He told them he wasn't going to break up with him or hurt him, he didn't care what they wanted anymore. That was when the man in the black suit with his aviator glasses told him in a robotic like tone that if he wouldn't break his relationship off with Carlos then they would simply kill him and force Cecil to witness the event. He had cried for hours after that, he had cried all the way back to their shared apartment, and had cried when he told him they couldn't be together anymore. He wanted to tell him the truth; tell him that if he didn't then they would kill him just like everyone else that Cecil had cared about. If they hadn't been listening he would have told him the truth or told him they should just leave and never look back like they should have years ago. He couldn't tell him the truth, he could only lie to the best of his abilities. He told him he couldn't be with him any longer, he didn't love him, and it'd just been a stupid phase he'd gone through and regretted. Maybe if he hadn't been crying and maybe if he could have brought himself to look the younger man in the eye then maybe it would have sounded just the tiniest bit believable. If Carlos hadn't known him for so long and had known just how full of shit he was then it could have worked. It hurt him when the scientist had hugged him, had whispered sweetly in his ear that he loved him, had asked how bad it was that they were making him do this. Cecil's crying and the way he dug his fingers into the fabric of the other man's shirt had answered his question. They had kissed one last time and then it was over; he watched him pack and watched him drive off.

After that Cecil had become drone like and when he wasn't monotone and robotic, he was crying and messing up reports. This angered Strex quite a bit so...They made changes; they had given up on re-educating him due to the fact it only caused him physical harm but never exactly broke him back into place. So instead they carved this disgusting grin into his face and told him he wouldn't ever be able to frown again, look so sad and miserable; especially when he had so much to be grateful for. They spent days, maybe weeks hammering every line they had into his head until it started to take. Finally they erased him mentally, almost all the way.

Days like today, days like his and Carlos' anniversary he could remember the past. Days like today he could remember that his name was not Kevin Free, but Cecil Baldwin and that this place used to be called Night Vale, not Desert Bluffs. He could remember that this wasn't his normal voice, the one his boyfriend used to love so much, but the voice of somebody with a metaphorical and sometimes real gun pressed to their head forcing them to be happy. Days like today he could remember when this place had been dry and out dated, not a futuristic Hell.


End file.
